The Life of The Damned
by BloomingDahlia16
Summary: Pandora Grey is one of a kind in many ways. For one, she's a surving child of a werewolf, so that's a start. When she heads to Hogwarts in her first year, she meets someone who changes her life. And a few others along the way. Chapter 2 is up.
1. A Victory of Sorts

**Prologue**

Pandora sat across from James, looking at her folded hands.

"Rora, I know how you feel…"

She cut him off, her voice a weak interruption. "I don't know what to do, James. I'm so afraid." She sniffed, the tears she'd been holding back since she'd found out pouring down her cheeks. "I won't do it. I can't, but I know it'll kill him." Wiping her eyes furiously, she clutched her stomach. "But it will kill me too. I'll either kill him or myself, James. He knows it too," she looked at the door wistfully. "And I can't bear to hurt him. After all he's done for me, I can't do that to him But I can't – I _won't _do what he wants." She started to gather her things, but James put a hand on her arm.

"Leaving will hurt him more, Pandora. You know it will. He loves you and he always will, regardless of your choice." He pleaded with her softly on behalf of his friend.

"You honestly believe that?" she snapped at him. "Have you seen him lately?" she looked to the door again/ "I told him so many times, I _knew_ this would tear us apart…" her voice faltered as a few more tears fell. "Bye James. Tell him I love him. He won't forgive me, so I won't ask for mercy. I'll stay in touch." She ran past him and through the party to the door. James ran after her, but only found his friend staring blankly at the front door. The music and chatter stopped as the door slammed shut.

"I'm sorry—" James began, but his friend was already running after Pandora.

* * *

"Okay, honey. Be safe. Owl if anything happens. Love ya," and a quick kiss later she was alone. Not that Pandora could blame her mother. She was probably worried about her dad, which Pandora wasn't and never would be. It was a rather harsh and cynical view for an eleven year old to have, but it was his fault she had a stupid ring on her finger and he was the reason she was being watched by the Ministry. He was rarely home, and when he was mom was always fighting with him. But still her mom constantly worried about her husband's safety.

"Love, honey. I love your father. You'll understand when you're older."

And she still didn't. Once a month, she knew her dad would be away, due to the full moon, but for weeks, even months on end he'd disappear with his pack. Then Emily would be absolutely furious but would turn into a nervous wreck after a day. He said he left to protect Pandora, but it was too late. The Ministry already found her and marked her for observation.

She was one of the few surviving children of a werewolf and a human. They were few and far between for one reason: blood. Werewolf—and vampire, for that matter—blood is poisonous to humans, hence the transformation when people are bitten and fed the blood. But people like Pandora—damned creatures were born with mixed blood, making them damned. Not in a religious sense, as in their souls were damned to Hell, but as in they were damned because they were a ticking time-bomb.

Werewolf blood reacts during the full moon, obviously, and gets stronger during those times. It fights with the human blood, causing the damned creature absolute agony, similar to the transformation a werewolf goes through, but without the release of actually changing. Just sheer pain until the sun rises. And in the few recorded cases of damned creatures, all died after a decade of living. The human body couldn't fight off the werewolf blood, but wasn't strong enough to survive the final transformation. So, as of last year she was supposed to be dead or the one thing she hated. Since she was the only living one in England, the Ministry put her observation, testing her blood levels every week, recording her reaction to treatment, taking notes on her suffering during the full moons. There were monthly articles about her in the Prophet in the health section. They had planned on keeping her at the Ministry for observation, but when Pandora's Hogwarts letter came, Emily pleaded for proper schooling, so now Pandora was headed to Hogwarts with a stupid ring and weekly reports to the Headmaster about her condition. She would rather poke a rusty fork in her eye than talk to Dumbledore every week about how the pain was exactly the same as it had been last week, but going to Hogwarts was a kind of freedom. Despite the conditions—the ring, meetings with Dumbledore, letter to the Ministry, supervision from the Head of the House and prefects—it _was_ a victory.

"Pandora gather her things and headed for Platform 9 ¾, remembering the explicit instructions her mother had given her.

"Just walk into the wall between nine and ten, trust me." She stood a few feet away and was about to walk when she saw a confused looking boy.

"Need some help?" ash asked, tapping him on the shoulder. His clothes were a bit worn-looking and his sandy hair was in need of a trim, but he had a kind face.

"You won't believe me," he said with a small laugh.

"Platform 9 ¾?" He peered around her and saw her trunk then grinned, nodding. "Come on," she held out her hand and pulled him and her trunk through the brick wall.

"Wow," they said on the other side.

"Did I seriously just walk through a brick wall?" he asked quietly, in awe.

"Mum told me about it, but…" she looked back at the wall, "wow."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I'm Remus, by the way."

"Pandora Grey,"

"The one in the papers?" he asked and she grimaced at him.

"Don't tell me you're someone hired by the Ministry to look after me." She pulled her things to the train with a groan.

"No, no. I—I just…I read about you. In the papers. See, I'm like you. In a way. I'm a werewolf." He followed her to an empty compartment, stumbling over his words with embarrassment.

"And you're going to school?" Her dad left school when he had been changed.

"Of course. I'm not going to let this get in my way."

"Wow," and because of that conversation, she stopped hating all werewolves. They talked until the train left the station, Pandora about her family, taking no shame in it because it was publicly known already; Remus didn't say much. He was shy normally, but more so about his lycanthropy. He was ashamed of it in a way, embarrassed that things had to be done to accommodate him. She was the opposite of him, she wasn't ashamed or embarrassed. Sure, she might hate it, but there was no point in being shy about it since people already knew. He was finally opening up about himself when two boys ran into the compartment and slammed the door shut.

"Are they gone?" one asked, his hazel eyes alight with mischief. He went to open the door, but the other held him back, pressing a finger to his lips. In the hall a group of kids ran past, their footsteps loud and angry. Pandora could make out a few phrases as they passed, mostly along the lines of "Where are the little prats?"

The two black-haired boys fell into the seats, laughing loudly.

"Not being funny, but if you don't want to get hexed into oblivion, I'd suggest shutting up," Pandora said, pointing to the silhouette of the mob as it passed again.

"Ah," the one with glasses muttered, instantly sobering. "Thanks," he said once it was safe.

"No problem," Pandora said with a wave of her hand. "Except now you owe me big time…"

* * *

**Okay, so there it is. I've just started this fic and I hope to post often. However, I'm very often a victim of Writer's Block, so please bear with me. **

**Reviews are welcomed!**


	2. Tradition

"Gryffindor!" The last name was called, and Melissa Zenith took her respective place at the table. Dumbledore rose at the Head Table and began his speech, but Pandora was having trouble concentrating because her two new friends – James Potter and Sirius Black – were taking turns making faces at each other.

"As far as the rules—" the Headmaster began.

"Oi! Where's the fun in that?"

Dumbledore chuckled and looked at the Gryffindor table over the top of his glasses. "Yes, Mr Black, rules. As much as you may not like them, they are essential to your safety." Sirius grumbled, but sat back and listened.

"Don't like rules, huh?" Pandora whispered.

"Nah, no freedom that way," he hissed back. Pandora smiled at him widely; he understood freedom. She noticed him glance over at the Slytherin table and roll his eyes, but didn't say anything.

"Sirius, plan on breaking every one of those rules?" James asked when the speech was over.

"You bet,"

"What about you two?" he asked looking at Pandora and Remus.

"Count me in," she said enthusiastically. After a moment of hesitation Remus nodded.

And that was the beginning of a rather mischievous friendship. Hogwarts hadn't see troublemakers like them from a number of years. Peter Pettigrew joined their group later that first night. The five of them were inseparable, James and Sirius more like brothers than friends, and Remus and Pandora the best of friends.

During the day of the full moon, Remus wouldn't leave Rora's side and had to be pushed away from her when the sun was setting. He would give explicit instructions to the Marauders to watch over her carefully and let Dumbledore know if anything happened. Part of Pandora hated the attention from Remus; it made her feel like she was back at the Ministry and under observation. But truthfully she loved him for caring about her instead of her condition. And he loved her and all the Marauders for accepting him despite _his_ condition.

They were all privy to the others thoughts, a fact Pandora sometimes resented. She didn't want to know the list of girls Sirius wanted to shag in comparison to the list of ones he had shagged. But she'd usually respond with her own list, scarring him as well.

See, after third year Pandora accepted the fact she'd hit puberty and started to use that to her advantage. She'd gone back for her fourth year physically changed; her uniform had been tailored to accentuate her assets, she spent a bit more time on her hair and makeup and was able to whip out a charming smile on command.

"I practiced," she'd tell Sirius with a sympathetic smile when he complained. "Maybe you should too." He'd inform her that he didn't need practice and they hold a contest every two months to see who'd 'entertained' the most people. Sirius invariable won, but Pandora countered that her relationships actually meant something, not just a quickie in a broom closet.

"But they do mean something. They mean I beat you again!" Now they were going into their sixth year and the score was 3-7 Sirius.

* * *

Pandora sat, hands twitching, at The Irishman's Inn, a pub not far from Kings Cross Station. She glanced up at the clock again and sighed. They were late again. Later than her, which was no easy feat. It was a tradition every year since their third to meet at this pub and share a round of beer before leaving for Hogwarts. They never worried about getting caught since there was rarely a person in the place and the owner didn't care as long as they paid.

Pandora stood, her handful of strange muggle notes going unused, when she heard a sigh of relief from the door.

"Good, you're alright." Remus said from the entrance then ran over to hug her.

"Hey, you saw me last week, Moony. Relax," she held him at arm's length to examine him, also tradition. He was still slightly worn-looking, the bags under his eyes never truly gone, but he'd lost the last of his boyishness over the summer. His body had hardened with muscle; his face lost the cute chubbiness of childhood, making way for high cheekbones and smooth but weather skin. She could even see the shadow of light brown scruff along his jaw.

"Missed shaving this morning?" she teased, rubbing his prickly cheek.

"Oh, bugger off," he said, swatting her hand away playfully. "They're late again I suppose."

"Oh, yes, of course. Stupid prats—"

"I hope you're not talking about us," Sirius piped in with a sad pout. Pandora giggled happily, rushing over to hug him.

"No Sirius, you're the horny prat. James is the silly one."

"I thought he was the lovesick one,"

"No," she said with a heavy sigh. She gave Remus and Sirius a long look before explaining it very slowly. "He's only lovesick once he sees Evans. Before then, he's just the silly one. Understand?" She asked them with an exaggerated nod, to which she received a noogie from Sirius. Then the silly prat himself strode into the room with Peter trailing not far behind him.

"Finally! You kept me waiting!" She ran over to him and his arm a swift swat. "Just for that, I'm making Quidditch hell for you this year."

"Ah, that's '_I'm going to make Quidditch hell for you, __**Captain**_**.**" Pandora groaned in unison with the rest of the Marauders; they were _never _going to hear the end of this.

"Well, come on then _Captain_. We've got a tradition to keep up." She pulled them all over to the bar and they each ordered a pint.

"To a new year," Remus announced, raising his mug.

"To new shags," Sirius added with a chuckle.

"To winning the Quidditch Cup!" James stood up, slopping beer down his front.

"To great friends and even greater feats." Pandora tipped to rim of her glass against the others' then gulped down the rest. "Ready?" she asked after a burp that got a round of applause from Sirius and James. They nodded at each other and ran for the scarlet train that would bring them to a new year. A year, unknown to them, filled with hardships, surprises and even more mischief than before.


End file.
